


No Colors can Prosper

by httpJames



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Original Work
Genre: 1700s, 1760s, 1770s, 1783, American Revolution, Benedict Arnold - Freeform, Crying, Death, F/M, Guns, Hamilton References, Loyalists, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Revolution, Soldiers, Why Did I Write This?, patriots, revolutionary, shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 14:09:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13765788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/httpJames/pseuds/httpJames
Summary: "Adieu,Malcolm Louis Cesley."





	No Colors can Prosper

The color of the young man's blood turning his royal blue coat purple was the least of his concerns as he looked over the edge of the trench to shoot at the incoming soldiers, dressed in the bright red coats that were so distinct from the line of dark green trees they were running through.   
The onslaught of gunfire from the muskets and the yelling from the other Soldiers made his ears ring, Clouds of smoke filled the air from the muskets, you were lucky if you didn’t get caught in one of those clouds and suffocate. 

He had climbed out of the trench, Along with a few other soldiers that were brave enough. All he could hear in his head was his wife's voice, her sweet voice, her laugh. He closed his eyes for a second, he saw her- He saw her smile, Oh god that smile, he loved that smile; The way her hair fell in her face, He loved her so much.  
Then, like that, everything stopped, the image of his wife faded from his eyes and his eyes darted open. A sharp pain ripped through his side, then another, and another. His legs buckled under him and he dropped his musket, falling to the grass beneath him.

This is it.

His vision began to blur, everything looked like blurs of color and light. He could feel the blood seeping from the wound in his abdomen as he flinched in pain, he didn’t scream as much as he wanted to, he was ready for this, he knew it would happen. He faded in and out of consciousness, Then he remembered the Letter, the letter he had promised to send his Wife, Anna if anything was to happen to him, So when the war ended, she wouldn’t wait for him to come home.   
That letter would be sent as soon as he was pronounced dead. 

 

Malcolm laid there, He saw a blob of red over him, and the color of someone's skin. A soldier, a redcoat? He felt an excruciating pain in his chest, He screamed- At Least he thought he did. His vision began to blur even more.   
He could feel the blood filling his mouth, His coughed it out and sucked in a breath, and then another, and then a short gasp. The blood filled his mouth once more and seeped out. 

He was gone.

Days later and miles away a letter was delivered to a Young woman, no older than 20. She was in her Kitchen, cooking for her two young children when her servant rushed in with the letter.   
”Ms.Cesley,” The woman said, “A letter has arrived for you, the man who dropped it off said it was urgent and you must read it at once.” She sets the letter down on the table, Then she stood there waiting for the young woman to open it.  
Anna turned to thank the servant then grabbed the letter, she opened it delicately and read it, it read.

 

My Dearest Anna, 

This letter will not be given to you unless I have otherwise, passed on from this life into the Heavens above. I wish you not to know the pangs I feel in my heart, knowing I will not be able to tell you and our children goodbye. I wish for you not to mourn over me, I wish for you to remarry and live a happy life without me. I’m sorry this is our final letter and it is not as long as you may have wished it to be. 

Adieu,  
Malcolm Louis Cesley.

 

Anna set the letter down, She was shaking with grief as tears spilled from her eyes, Malcolm, Her Malcolm, was gone. The servant girl from before rushed the children out of the room and upstairs before they could start asking questions.  
Anna gripped the edge of the table trying to steady her shaking body before she had the chance to collapse to a mound of skirts on the floor. Grief consumed her as she let herself slip to the floor, Her light yellow skirts pooling around her. 

She let out sobs, heart-wrenching sobs as the servant girl rushed to her side to comfort her, Anna only pushed her away, letting out a faint “Don’t touch me.”

\--

As days turned into weeks, and the sky grew dreary and grey a Funeral was held for Malcolm.  
Anna looked down in the casket, She couldn’t even recognize her own husband, He didn’t even remotely similar to what he had looked like when they last saw each other. He just looked, dead. She couldn’t look at him for very long, and she didn’t even allow her children to look at him. 

His death was heavy on her heart for a long while, She never did remarry even though Malcolm had told her two. She would’ve never been able to replace him of all people, She loved him so much.  
She never stopped mourning him, Her dresses would always have some part of them black and she wore her wedding ring on the chain around her neck. 

Malcolm would visit her, Sometimes in her dreams, sometimes in her nightmares. He was always gonna be there.


End file.
